Nothing. A dynasty. A legacy. The silence was numbing. What other choice do we have? Vairlyn finally said. Dust was falling, the pantry was bare, and the king was pounding his way closer. The family agreed, disagreed, went in circles, searched for quick solutions because the persistent rumbling around us was proof that time was running out. The final hard decision was left to the Patrei, a tremendous burden to bear, but his expression remained steady. He said that there was no other choice. Ridding the king of his arsenal was our only chance.
“Bring the horses in from the outer cave,” Jase said to Titus. “It won’t be safe for them out there.”
Titus balked. “Horses in here?”
“Make room,” Jase answered calmly.
Next he quashed a second bid by Paxton to go along. Paxton was already pulling at his sling to take it off. “No,” Jase said. “I’ll need you later, cousin. Not on this run.”
His answer was firm, but the way Jase said cousin, it sounded important and brought Paxton closer into the fold. Paxton nodded.
I might juggle oranges, but Jase juggled just as much in his head. People, horses, vault doors, a complicated family, me. No wonder his father had named him Patrei. But now I knew that title wasn’t a magical cure for worry. Jase seemed to hide it away where no one could see, a skilled sleight of hand, but I
saw it in the tuck of his chin, his sideways glance. He was my husband, and his secrets were mine. He pushed himself to make everyone else stronger. He was willing to sacrifice his home and centuries of history to protect what mattered. Sometimes it takes just one person who won’t let evil win. The queen had been talking about Greyson Ballenger, but today, my husband was that person.
He bent over and pulled a pack over his shoulder with one hand and grabbed his launcher with the other. I wouldn’t be waltzing into Tor’s Watch alone—Jase had made that clear from the start. I might be good at finding things, but it would take all of us to blow those things up. Rahtan, Ten, Shadowmaker, no title you hold is going to make me change my mind on this one, he had growled to me under his breath as we got our gear together. And only today does an ambassador trump a Patrei, he added, and then kissed me, long and hard. We’ll see about that, pretty boy, I whispered back to him. He tried to act amused. The worry was building.
We picked up our gear and headed for the back entrance door. We sounded like an army as we marched down the tunnel. We had a team of eight. Wren and Synové were the first to volunteer. Imara, Mason, Priya, and Samuel were also going—armed with launchers. The four remaining launchers would be left behind and used by Titus, Gunner, Aram, and Aleski to guard the main vault entrance, if the moment came to open it.
As we traversed through the caves to the falls, Priya fell into step beside me. She wanted to tutor me on the layout of every room in Tor’s Watch, but then she caught herself. “But … you probably already know them all, don’t you?”
There was no point in trying to hide the obvious anymore. “Yes, I do. Every nook and room, including your office and what hangs on your walls. It was my job, Priya.”
Her mouth hung open for only a second and then she nodded. “Well, I guess that’s a lucky thing for all of us, then, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t deny it, even if it made her uncomfortable. Very lucky.
Becoming part of a family would be perhaps one of the hardest things I had ever done.
* * *
We never emerged from behind the falls into the forest because just behind them there was another path—an isolated one—that led back over the mountain toward Cave’s End. It was a strenuous climb that sometimes required helping one another up sheer faces of rock, and handing up packs and weapons before we climbed onto a ledge ourselves. Our path kept us invisible from patrolling soldiers, though we all still wore the camouflaged cloaks they had made to rescue me.
Wren was armed with her ziethes, and Synové carried her bow and a full quiver of arrows on her back. They also had Imara’s knives that they spoke quite fondly of, like they were furry pets. Ra mézhans. My sisters. It felt good to be walking beside them again. Jase’s Kbaaki wives. The whole ordeal was almost worth it, just to hear the crazy stories they told, though I knew Synové added a good bit of embellishment.
When we reached some level ground, I noticed Synové eyeing Mason walking just ahead.
I remembered the nasty threats that had been hurled at her and Wren. “The family is treating you both well?” I asked.
“Well enough,” Wren answered. “Vairlyn is kind.”
“What about Samuel? I was surprised that Jase chose him to go along, considering his hand.”
Wren shrugged. “Samuel’s light on his feet. He knows how to be quiet and take orders, a much underappreciated quality. And his hand is strong enough. Those launchers aren’t exactly precision weapons. Plus he’s gotten pretty good with his other hand.”
“Hmm,” Synové said, licking her tongue over her lips. “Pretty good at what?”
Wren moaned. “Don’t start,” she warned.
“What about you and Mason?” I asked. “What’s going on there? I hear you two spent the night alone in a ruin.”
Synové shook her head as if surprised. “Listen to you!” she answered. “Asking all kinds of intimate questions! Is this what your husband did to you?”
I smiled. “Maybe so. I’ve gotten better at sharing and talking.”
She sighed. “I don’t know. As one of his other wives, I found his talking to be a bit boring. All he ever wanted to talk about was you.”
“True,” Wren agreed.